Proteus
by ShadeShifter
Summary: Complete. Sequel to Metamorphosis. Martin's past as Vin Tanner comes to the fore when Chris Larabee tracks him to New York. M7ATFxWaT


Disclaimer: I don't own either Magnificent 7 or Without a Trace, or their respective characters. I'm not making any profit from this, just having a little fun.

Many thanks to Moon, who betad this, put up with my nagging (even if she didn't know why) anddealt with the schizophrenic-ness of Martin's situation in my stead.

Also thanks to Tari Telemnar, without whom this fic wouldn't exist, and who knows just the right things to say.

And let me not forget those who reviewed to Metamorphosis. My thanks go out to you too, and I hope this is a worthy sequel, and meets all your expectations.

**Proteus**

Martin raised a hand to pull at his collar before he realised what he was doing. His hand fell limply to his side. His father cast a pointed glare at him from across the room and he forced a pleasant smile onto his face.

The last place he wanted to be on Christmas Eve was with his family, as awful as that sounded. Last year had not been so bad, but Bonnie had been there then. Now even his cousins had missed this disaster of a Christmas party.

He could have been with Vivian and her family now. She had invited him for Christmas and he had been sorely tempted, but he could not encroach on their family holiday and this was expected of him. And he always did what was expected of him, he thought resentfully.

Suddenly the room felt stifling and he quickly, if gracelessly, made his way to the balcony. Sometimes he missed the grace that came with feeling comfortable in his own skin. He had never felt comfortable as Martin Fitzgerald. There was just too much to be conscious of at once. He stepped outside and took a deep breath of fresh air only to catch a hint of cigarette smoke before it was snatched away by the cool breeze.

"Mr Tanner," a voice shrewdly greeted. Years of experience prevented him from showing any perceptible reaction but his heart skipped a beat none-the-less.

"Mrs Standish," he greeted calmly as he turned to see her leaning against the railing, a cigarette held loosely in her hand.

"Touché," she conceded as she gestured next to her. Martin went to stand stiffly beside her and she took the opportunity to look him over. "You do clean up remarkably well."

"So I've been told." He struggled to keep the bitterness from his voice. Maude, being the student of human nature that she was, easily picked up on it.

"What could the man who lacks nothing possible want?" she asked with a sharp smile. Martin shook his head. He empathised with Ezra more than the other man could possibly know. Maude was, in so many ways, just like his father. The thought of Ezra sent a small shiver of worry through him. Would Maude tell her son where he was? His anxiety faded. Of course she wouldn't. This information was leverage, and she wouldn't act prematurely.

"Would you say you wanted for nothing?"

"Come now darling, you should know better than that," she scolded. He gave her an easy smile. Four years ago, it had been less surprising than it should have been when he realised just how easily he had slipped into acting falsely. He let her read into his smile what she would. She seemed to find his response satisfactory.

"Martin, dear, are you out here?" a voice called. He couldn't help the instinctive cringe and Maude raised an eyebrow.

"I'm here," he replied. Juliet Fitzgerald looked around the door and smiled brightly when she saw him.

"Your father wanted you to meet the Blakes, but it seems you've already met Margaret." Juliet came forward and gave Maude a hug and a kiss on the cheek in greeting. Maude replied in kind. "It's good to see you again. You're looking well."

"As are you," Maude replied with a smile of her own. "I think it's time that I returned to my husband." Reluctantly Martin followed in Maude and Juliet's wake, absently listening as they spoke of inconsequential things. Somehow just seeing Maude was a reminder of how much he missed his brothers and how much effort he had put into repressing that feeling over the last four years.

He squared his shoulders when he caught sight of his father speaking with a strange man whom he could only assume was Mr Blake. He maintained his smile through sheer force of will alone. He knew that for tonight he could not afford to be anything but the perfect son. Anything else was not acceptable.

"Ah, you must be Martin," Mr Blake said as he reached out a hand. Martin gave it a firm shake.

"Martin is following in my footsteps at the Bureau." That was all it took for Martin to feel all of twelve years old again where his father and step-mother would show him off to their friends and brag about his last test or medal or victory. He doubted they were ever actually proud of him, just proud of the fact that he performed well enough that they could brag about him. The harder he had tried the more they had bragged and the less they had seen him beneath the achievements until he had stopped trying at all. That had been even worse.

Then there had been only disappointment and exasperation. He had been smart, well-cared for, athletic and popular. He had had everything he could possibly want. Hadn't he? And yet the urge to run had always simmered just beneath the surface. What could the man who lacks nothing possibly want? He had wanted his father to acknowledge him as a person, not simply as an heir to the family name.

After his first foray into the world of Vin Tanner he had always wanted more. There had been a desperate need in him to leave. It didn't matter where he ended up, only that he escape the confines of Martin's world. His father had never understood that. Of course, his father had never understood him.

"What is it that you do exactly?" Maude asked curiously. Martin's answer was cut off by his father.

"He works for Missing Persons, with a specialisation in computers."

"My, aren't you just full of surprises, Martin Fitzgerald." Of course Maude had only known Vin Tanner, who had been moderately illiterate, dishevelled and a bit rough around the edges, to say the least. Martin gave her a tight smile.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Martin sighed as he closed his bedroom door. The plan was that he would spend a cold Christmas with his family before catching a flight back to New York. The night had been a long one and he was grateful simply to return to his room, even if it did hold memories he'd rather forget. He would have preferred to be at his apartment in New York instead, it did not have the same feeling of home as his apartment in Purgatorio did, nor did he feel the sense of sanctuary he associated with Chris's ranch, but it was his own and that was enough. It was certainly more than he had had during some of his harder times.

Everything was still exactly the same as when he'd left for the army. His bookshelf was still crammed with all the classics he had liked to read as well as his collection of CDs. Ten years later he couldn't recall why he'd even liked some of it. His computer was newer than he remembered, something he'd noticed right away. It wasn't nearly as good as the one he had at his apartment, but then he'd practically built that one from scratch with all the latest parts. His bed was neatly made and there wasn't a speck of dust in the entire room. He had to wonder if the room had been cleaned simply for his arrival or if his father made sure that it was ready for whenever he might visit. More likely his step-mother couldn't stand the idea of a dirty room in her house.

He slipped out of his coat and draped it over the back of his desk chair, then toed off his shoes. He breathed a sigh of relief as he loosened his tie then sank heavily onto his bed. Frowning he reached for his cell, then stared at it for long moments. After hesitating several times he finally dialled a number that he knew off by heart. A number he could dial while teetering on the edge of consciousness and suffering from blood loss, and had several times before.

He could hear a dial tone and was sorely tempted to hang up, but he needed the contact. He needed to know that they were still there. The phone was picked up and he could hear JD and Buck carrying on in the background. It was Christmas Eve, of course they would all be at the ranch.

"Larabee," a gruff voice answered. Martin found that he couldn't remember how to breathe. He hadn't really planned beyond this point. "Who's there?" Chris demanded. There was a long pause and then an incredulous "Vin?". Josiah's booming voice called to Chris from another room and Chris grunted impatiently. Martin hung up.

How had Chris known it was him? His heart hammered in his chest for several long moments before he managed to calm himself down. Chris couldn't possibly have really known it was him. He was only guessing. He reminded himself that they were still safe in Denver.

They sounded happy and he was glad. He was also disappointed. It was not that he wished them ill, the opposite in fact, but he had hoped that his place on the team meant as much to them as it had to him. They were his brothers, and it ached every moment that he was away from them. It hurt that they had moved on without him.

He looked at his phone again before dropping it onto the nightstand in disgust. He should never have called. It was too great a risk. His father's threat was still valid, and he had no wish to put his brothers in jeopardy.

However, he wished he hadn't called more because he didn't want to know that they had moved on.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Two weeks later Martin was back at work and gratefully so. He and his father never managed to see eye to eye on anything, and getting through Christmas had been an exercise in self-control. He had always figured that that was why Chris never intimidated him. After seeing the extent of his father's anger at seventeen when Martin had been found living in a gang on the street, he had known that nothing Chris did could possibly match Victor Fitzgerald at his worst. His father had never hit him, had never even laid a hand on him in anger. He hadn't needed to. His disappointment and his ensuing threats had been far worse. His one year at boarding school had been far worse than all of his years on the street. The school was for rich kids who needed straightening out, and Martin could only compare it to boot camp – except that boot camp lasted only nine weeks.

The last few days had been reasonably quiet with only relatively simple cases of runaway kids or spouses who had left without a word. He was glad, not that they had gone missing, but because it had given him time to pull himself together. Somehow Danny teasing him, Vivian hovering and Sam staring at him with sad blue eyes grounded him. They were constant.

They grounded him, but did not put him entirely at ease. Only his brothers managed that. Their absence was an ache that constantly reminded him of his loss. He wished he could immerse himself in being Vin once more but his father would never fall for it a third time. Besides, he had to stop running from his problems at some point. He was growing weary.

Hiding a wealthy background and privileged upbringing as Vin Tanner was one thing, hiding his darker nature and military training as Martin Fitzgerald was another entirely. He had already made several mistakes and he was sure Vivian had begun to suspect; and if not Vivian, then surely Jack.

It had also taken some time for him to realise that he could trust his fellow agents and not do everything alone. A rookie agent who had only worked white-collar was not supposed to go off on his own. He was supposed to be timid and intimidated. He was supposed to be eager to please. He was not supposed to be a lone wolf capable of killing a man in anger. The Seven had understood his darker side, had understood where it came from. These agents he had slowly come to call friends had no idea.

"Martin, there's someone asking to see you," Jack told him. His expression betrayed nothing and Martin could only wonder at what trouble he was in now.

"Who is it?"

"Special Agent Christopher Larabee, ATF."

Martin frowned in confusion for a moment before stopping short. His face drained of colour. The full title had thrown him off, if only for a moment. He vaguely recognised the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach to be dread. Chris was not supposed to be here. Martin and Vin's lives were not supposed to mix.

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" Jack asked, his expression immediately shifting to concern. Jack may be tough on his people sometimes, but he genuinely cared.

Martin shook his head, then paused and nodded. "I don't know. He's going to be pissed as hell."

Jack raised an eyebrow. It wasn't often that Martin swore, even as mildly as that. "What happened, Martin?"

Martin just shook his head and moved mechanically to Jack's office, where Chris was undoubtedly waiting. Jack followed close behind after warning the rest of the team to remain where they were.

Martin stepped into the room and the sight of Chris made his heart clench painfully tight before Chris' fist to his jaw made his head snap back. Jack was immediately at his side, subtly positioning himself between the two agents.

"Agent Larabee," Jack warned, "I'll have you brought up on charges for that." Chris ignored him entirely.

"Did you think you could disappear? Did you think we would stop looking for you?" Chris questioned, his glare the fiercest he'd ever seen it.

"Chris," he began, but the other man visible flinched and he found himself unable to continue.

"Who are you?"

A slight widening of the eyes was the only outward indication he gave, but inside he felt his world collapsing in on itself. "You know who I am. You're the only one who ever has."

"No. I thought I knew you. Whoever you are, you are not Vin Tanner."

Martin recoiled. This was certainly not how he saw this reunion going, and he'd spent a great deal of time thinking about it, even if he hadn't expected it to actually happen. He had expected Chris to be hurt and angry, it was only fair. What he hadn't expected was for Chris to deny him. Slowly Vin began to shake, his anger building until it matched Chris'.

"Did ya think I wanted ta leave? That I had a choice? Reckon yer not as smart as I thought. Reckon I didn't know ya at all either," he said, slipping easily into his Texan drawl with his anger.

"Martin?" Jack questioned cautiously. This was certainly a side of his agent that he had never seen, although he had known for some time that the man wasn't exactly the naïve agent he pretended to be. He had seen the army transcripts, after all, and while they had not told the entire story, undoubtedly Victor Fitzgerald had something to do with that, he could see enough to read between the lines. Jack grew more concerned when Martin immediately straightened to look Larabee challengingly in the eyes.

"I'm fine," he told Jack, without taking his eyes off Chris. The sudden changes disconcerted both men.

"What happened?" Chris demanded.

"You seem ta have decided that fer yerself."

"Vin-"

"I thought you didn't know who I am," Martin ground out bitterly.

Chris floundered a moment unsure how to reconcile the man he considered a brother and this stranger who seemed to have taken his place. Finally he focussed on the blue eyes he knew so well. World-weary eyes that had known him as soon as they saw him.

"Damn it Vin! You left without a word to anyone. The only reason Travis even considered accepting your resignation was because someone leaned on him pretty hard. We had no idea what happened to you."

"I had ta leave."

"Why?"

Vin sighed and wiped a hand wearily down his face. He couldn't tell Chris about his father, Chris would only confront him, and he couldn't let his father know that Chris had visited him.

"It ain't important."

"Not important?" Chris ground out, growing angry once more.

"Chris, I'm sorry but…" Vin paused, gathering his strength, "I'm happy here, and I think you should leave." Chris stared at him incredulously for a moment before stepping forward until there was barely an inch separating them.

"I don't know what's going on here," Chris said, his voice dangerously soft, "but I will find out. And then you are going to come back home, where you belong."

Martin felt a curious mixture of dread and relief. On the one hand Chris was there, and that meant that everything would be alright. On the other hand, his father had certainly destroyed more influential men than Chris or Travis. One didn't become Assistant Director of the FBI by being entirely nice about it. Of course, he suspected that somehow Chris would be a challenge, even for Victor Fitzgerald.

Chris brushed past him and stalked out of the office. Martin watched him go before sighing. He had completely forgotten about Jack until the other man quietly closed the door and moved to sit at his desk.

"Have a seat."

Martin knew an order when he heard one, and he obeyed, too drained and astonished to even begin to think up excuses. He watched Jack tiredly, wondering how a single confrontation had managed to make him feel so exhausted. Jack watched him for a long moment and Martin grew impatient.

"I'm sorry about this, it won't happen again," he promised.

Jack continued his steady stare until it began to unnerve Martin as it had many times before. It made him want to confess to sneaking out of his dorm that time, to being the one who had pulled that stupid prank on Mr Jameson when his marking had been unfair, and to numerous other things which he had done to act out when he was younger. He fought to keep his resolve.

"I'm not entirely sure what 'it' was."

"Just some unresolved business."

"I wasn't aware that you had ever worked for the ATF." Jack's gaze turned piercing and Martin barely resisted the urge to squirm.

"It's just a misunderstanding. I'll make sure that it's cleared up as soon as possible."

"Martin, I know that there are some holes in your transcripts. Undoubtedly your father covered up quite a lot, and I'm not sure what it was, I'm not sure I want to know. Your recommendations were excellent, however, and I could tell that with a bit of experience you'd make a great agent. If you're in some kind of trouble-"

"I'm not in any trouble, Jack." Martin drudged up what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." Jack sighed.

"You know that my door is always open."

"I should get back to work," Martin said with a jerk of his thumb. "I still have some paperwork from that last case." Jack nodded as Martin swiftly stood and exited the office. He took a deep breath. If this was going to continue working then he had to act like Martin, not like Vin. He adjusted his suit and straightened his tie before walking over to his desk.

"Hey, Harvard, what did the man-in-black want?"

Martin gave him a self-depreciating smile. If Danny only knew.

"Oh, you know, the usual."

"Come to extradite you back to your home planet?" Martin snorted.

"Something like that."

Martin sat down at his desk and stared at his screen wondering what he was going to do now. He had to keep Jack off his back and persuade Chris to leave well enough alone. The problem was that they were two of the most stubborn and perceptive men he knew and he really couldn't risk things falling apart at this point. Somehow he had to keep his life together and Jack and Chris' at the same time. He already knew that his father had it in for Jack and he had already threatened Chris and the others. Suddenly he wished with all his being that Bonnie was still alive. Somehow she had always managed to make even the murkiest situation make sense. She would have known exactly the right thing to say to him.

"Martin?" Sam questioned softly. When he didn't answer she tried again.

"Huh? Oh, hi Sam," he greeted with a small smile.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it's just been a bit of a trying morning." She gave him a half smile in return.

"Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks Sam, I appreciate it." With that he turned determinedly to his computer. He really did have some paperwork to finish up.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

As Martin slotted his key into the lock of his apartment all he could think about was having a beer, a shower, and then going to bed. Chris had not come back that day but the rest of his Missing Persons team had realised that something was up and had been watching him, if not outright asking him, for the rest of the day.

As soon as he stepped into the apartment he realised that something was wrong and his instincts had never let him down before. He quietly eased his gun from its holster and edged his way into his apartment. In the sitting room only a lamp dimly illuminated the room, but Martin could make out the figure sitting imperially in a chair.

"Come now, Mr Tanner, is that any way to treat your guests?" Martin snorted and re-holstered his gun as he went to turn the main lights on.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mrs Standish?"

"I must admit to a certain curiosity." Martin raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't comment.

"May I offer you something to drink?"

"No thank you. I took the liberty of helping myself while I waited." She raised her glass to emphasise her point and Martin found himself caught between amusement and annoyance.

"Not that this isn't a pleasant surprise-"

"You want to know why I'm here," she interrupted. Martin nodded, though it had been a statement and not a question. "I heard that you had a rather interesting visit this morning."

"Quite," Martin agreed. "Am I to assume that the rest of the team is in town as well?" Maude paused a moment, scrutinizing him, then nodded. Martin's entire body seemed to sigh as he realised that it was not only Jack and Chris who he would have to look out for, but the rest of his brothers as well.

"When you left my son was very concerned about you, but I do have to wonder if that is where his concern should be focussed." It took Martin only a moment to realise what Maude meant.

"As long as I can help it I won't let anything happen to him, or any of the others."

"Your father is an exceedingly influential man," Maude stated and Martin sighed.

"He is. I will try everything within my power not to get Ezra involved. On that you have my word." Maude nodded, seemingly satisfied. Martin wondered if perhaps he had misjudged Maude and the depths of her caring for her son. He also had to wonder what that meant for his relationship with his father.

"As to the matter of my curiosity," Maude began. Her expression was serious as she stared at him intently. Martin leant forward, his own curiosity rising. Clearly this was not a matter which Maude took lightly. He nodded to show that he was listening. "For some time now it has plagued me as to why Ezra remains with your motley group."

"I don't belong to it anymore," Martin corrected her. Maude gave a negligent wave of her hand.

"Regardless. It seems to offer him no real compensation that I could gather and additionally puts him in mortal peril."

Martin wondered how he could even begin to explain this to her, but he knew that he had to give it a shot. He could tell how much it bothered Ezra that his mother didn't accept his choices as part of the man he was as well as the man he wanted to be.

"The compensation isn't monetary. He has the freedom to be who he is, regardless of what that means. It's being close enough to people that they know instinctively when something isn't right or when something's on your mind. You can trust them implicitly." Maude merely looked more concerned than she had before.

"I taught him better than that."

"Can you honestly tell me that you've lived your life without trusting anyone?" Maude opened her mouth to comment. "Even Mr Standish?" She snapped it shut. "You can't live your life in isolation and be happy, not really. And certainly not Ezra, who is a social creature by nature."

"He could be doing so much more with his life."

"But he wouldn't be happy. Not really. Isn't it enough that he's happy?"

"He's thought that before and he's been wrong. He's been betrayed." Martin finally realised how much her son's pain hurt her also and how much of what she did was just her way of protecting him, as misguided as it was.

"You can trust Chris, if you don't trust the others. He would die before he'd let anything happen to one of his men, and make no mistake, Ezra's one of his men as much as any of the others." Maude stood fluidly and Martin rose with her.

"Thank you, Mr Fitzgerald. This conversation has been most enlightening." Martin gave her a half-smile.

"Next time you could always use the phone." Maude gave a slight smile of her own which was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

"Of course." She hesitated a moment. "A piece of advice, Mr Fitzgerald. Never underestimate how far a parent will go to protect their child." Martin nodded. He understood that she meant this is relation to his father. It was the context he didn't quite grasp.

"I will take that into consideration."

"Perhaps I will see you again, Mr Tanner," Maude said as she made her way to the door. Martin held it open for her.

"Perhaps." With that Maude swept from the room and down the corridor.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Martin wished that he'd had another cup of coffee before he'd left. He'd had a restless night's sleep and tired was not how he wanted to face the situation. He exited his apartment block with a quick 'Good morning, Mr Cooper' to the doorman. He then turned to hail a cab, only to stop short. Chris stood leaning against his jeep with Ezra and Buck at his sides. The others stood around. All were watching him closely.

"Chris."

"Vin."

"Vin!" Nathan exclaimed as he rushed forward to examine Martin's jaw. Chris' right hook had left quite a mark.

"I'm fine Nate, it's just a bruise." Nathan reluctantly took a step back. Chris looked guiltily at Martin who smiled crookedly. Buck noticed the exchange and gave Chris an incredulous look.

"Damn it Chris, you promised not to do anything stupid."

"Mr Cooper is reluctant to let us enter your abode," Ezra commented lazily, before anything could come of the exchange.

"Enough money will get you anything," Martin replied wryly. Ezra smirked.

"A man after my own heart." Martin turned and told the doorman that the six men were alright to enter. He then indicated for them to follow him up. Buck gave a low whistle at seeing the expensively furnished apartment. Martin smiled wryly again.

"My father insisted that my surroundings 'reflect my status'," Martin said, the bitterness clear in his voice. There was an awkward pause where the six men weren't sure how to relate to him.

"That's weird," JD said finally. After the curious looks he received he blushed. "The accent, it's just weird." They all stood awkwardly alternatively looking at each other or avoiding looking at each other. Finally Martin gestured around the sitting room.

"Have a seat," he offered. He cast Chris a look that Chris easily read as 'you shouldn't have brought them here.' He gave Martin a neutral look in return.

"We found out some interesting information. You'll want to hear it." Martin sighed then nodded.

"You didn't find me for four years. How did you find me now?"

Ezra snorted.

"Mr Larabee acquired caller ID. It was a simple matter to discover your location from there. Obtaining entrance was another matter entirely."

Martin shook his head. He had known that call had been a stupid idea, but despite himself he couldn't regret seeing his brothers, only that there would ultimately be trouble.

"How'd you know it was me, Chris?" Martin asked, the question having bugged him for some time. Chris gave a half smile, as though it was self-evident.

"I always know when it's you." There was a self-conscious moment of silence.

"Why'd you leave us, Vin?" JD blurted out suddenly. Martin looked to the ground, unable to meet JD's earnest gaze.

"I couldn't stay."

"Why not?"

"Your father is an exceedingly influential man," Ezra said, unconsciously repeating his mother's words. Martin nodded. That out of all of this was the most obvious.

"He controls everything he comes into contact with. There are no other options." Martin looked up into Chris' eyes and saw that Chris understood. Victor Fitzgerald controlled everything, even Martin. Even when Martin was across the country living as Vin Tanner his father had still influenced his life, had still been the primary motivation for most of his actions.

"We found some rather underhanded dealings in connection to your father," Buck ventured. "And some less than legal dealings that can't quite be proven. He's one slippery fish."

Martin gave a sardonic half-smile. He'd taken many of his father's lessons to heart, whether he had intended them or not. With a role model like his father it was no wonder he had gotten so good at hiding things.

"If you know about him, then you know you should all leave."

"We aren't leaving," JD told him defiantly.

"You should know better, brother Vin."

Martin ran a hand through his hair. He was disoriented for a moment when he found it short. He mentally shook his head. He had to keep Vin and Martin separate in his mind.

"You don't know what he's like." Buck gave him a roguish grin.

"We're the Magnificent Seven, nothing can touch us."

Martin sighed heavily. They didn't understand what they were getting themselves into. Chris cast significant glares at the men and one by one they reluctantly made their excuses and left. Martin rolled his eyes.

"That was subtle." Chris turned his glare on the younger man who stared directly back, unfazed.

"Vin, you know us, you know we aren't going to give up until we get to the bottom of this. And we are going to get to the bottom of this."

"The only thing you're going to get is crushed. No one goes up against my father and wins."

"Damn it Vin, I've never known you to give up on anything. Why won't you even try to fight for this?" Martin gave him a weary look and shook his head.

"I can't fight him. I've tried and things only get worse if I do."

"This time you've got us."

"Chris-"

"No, Vin. I'm not letting you give up. I don't care who we have to fight, but you're coming back to Denver with us."

_M7WATM7WATM7_

"Harvard," Danny called when Martin finally made it in to work. Martin looked up. Danny took his arm and steered him into an empty room.

"Martin, you know I wouldn't normally be the one to do this-"

"Say what you want to say."

"What's going on here?"

Martin felt irrationally angry. He had his father pressuring him, he had Jack on his back about what was going on, and he had Chris and the others and all the difficulties that came with that. He did not need someone else getting on his case too.

"Danny, just leave it alone."

"Martin, we're worried about you."

"Ain't none of yer concern." Martin's features took on a hard edge Danny had seen only once: after Martin had killed Franco Reyes. Danny had had other things on his mind then, but he recognised what he saw now. He knew streets when he saw it, he just never thought he'd associate it was Martin Fitzgerald.

"Martin-" he started.

"Ya think you know who I am, but ya ain't got a clue." Martin turned and stalked out of the room. He had to force himself to calm down. These days it was just too easy to slip between Vin and Martin.

Danny stood for a moment, staring after him, wondering how this new information fit in to what had just become the conundrum that was Martin Fitzgerald.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Martin heard a knock on his door and, with a tired sigh, went to open it. He stood foolishly staring at the man for a moment before he stepped aside, silently letting him enter.

"Martin," his father greeted.

"Father," Martin replied formally.

"Something has come to my attention."

Martin felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn't know about Chris and the others. He wasn't allowed to know that they had come. He felt the urge to pull at his collar as he waited for his father to elaborate.

"We agreed that you wouldn't have contact with them. That it was for your own good."

"We agreed on nothing. You decided. Besides, I didn't even know they were coming."

"Martin, you need to have your feet firmly planted on the ground. These people are just going to remind you of things which are best left forgotten." Martin could take as many threats to himself as he father could deal out, but he would not let him ruin his friends.

"I will stay, I've agreed to that much, but if you harm them, their reputations, or their job security in anyway then you will have lost me forever. I have fallen into step with your plans before to try and make you proud of me, but we both know that that's never going to happen."

Victor looked stricken. "Martin, of course I'm proud of you."

"Because I've done exactly what you've laid out for me without complaint?" Martin asked bitterly.

"I'm proud of you son, because you do well at your job. In a few years, with a bit more experience, I'm sure you'll be leading your own team."

"That's all that ever matters to you. I'm doing well at my job so you're proud of me because it reflects well on you. What about my happiness? I was happy with the ATF."

"Happy? Don't talk nonsense."

"I don't think in thirty years you've ever heard a word I've said, and if you have then you certainly haven't cared. I had people I trusted, people who were like family to me. You had to threaten them to get me to leave."

"I was only doing what was best for you."

"You don't have a clue about what's best for me. You don't even know me."

"I know that you are not some ill-bred, uneducated ruffian who will never get further in life than an ATF grunt."

"Maybe I don't want to get any further than that. I don't need money or success, I just need my friends."

Victor looked completely perplexed. "But you could do so much better."

"I'm thirty years old. I think I can decide what's best for me and what isn't and to me there isn't anything better than working with those six men."

"Martin, son, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Why? Because I don't agree with you? I've been old enough to make up my own mind for a while now."

"Martin, you're better off in New York. This Vin Tanner character you persist in playing will never get anywhere."

"I can't… you haven't… Just leave them out of this, please," he sighed in defeat. He hated to think that he was begging, but he hated even more the fact that his father probably wouldn't even notice. He thought that maybe his time as Vin has strengthened his resolve. It turned out that he was just as weak as he'd ever been. He was a façade erected with the precarious scaffolding of his father's pride, his dreams and expectations. The only release he found was in pretending that he didn't exist. He wondered what his shrink would say about that.

"I'll see you at Easter," he added after a pause. It was a hopeless fight and he had known that, but somehow he had hoped that this time would be different. Now he just felt hollow and he wished that he'd never brought the whole thing up in the first place.

"I'll tell your mother you say hello." Martin stiffened before his shoulders slumped in resignation.

"Of course."

"I'm staying," Martin told Chris later. Chris shook his head in frustration.

"You're giving up without even fighting. Maybe I don't know you after all. Vin Tanner has a backbone, he fights best when he's cornered and he certainly doesn't give up when things seem tough."

"You have no idea what it's like," Martin said, his own voice laced with irritation

"You can't hide in your father's shadow forever."

"I don't have a choice. He's never given me a choice." Martin sighed. "He thinks he's doing what's best for me."

"Damn it. Vin, you're letting him push you around. The man I know you can be would never let that happen."

"I don't have a choice," Martin repeated. The conversation reminded him eerily of the kind he usually had with his father. Regardless of what he said the other man refused to listen to him.

"There's always a choice."

"Not one I'm willing to make."

"We can look after ourselves, Vin."

"You're underestimating my father." This time Chris gave a sigh of his own.

"Fine," he conceded, and Martin couldn't help be feel a sense of foreboding. Chris never gave up that easily on anything.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Danny knocked lightly on Jack's door and waited impatiently for permission before he entered. He sat down with a grave expression.

"Fitz has been acting strangely." That was as close as he was going to get to admitting he was concerned, but Jack would understand anyway. At the very least he knew that Jack was aware of what was going on.

"I'm working on it."

Danny nodded, but remained sitting. While that was comforting, it was not enough. He hesitated, not entirely sure how much to volunteer. He wanted to make sure Martin was all right, but he wasn't about to rat on a friend. If Jack didn't already know something then he wasn't going to tell him.

"I don't exactly know what's going on, but the behaviours he's displaying –"

"Martin's fine. He's just under a remarkable amount of stress."

Danny had to wonder what sort of stress Martin could be under. As far as he could tell the man had it easy most times. Obviously his relationship with his father was a bit strained, it was hard not to notice the tension between those two, but in most respects he seemed to have it easy. He remembered the hard look in Martin's eyes. No one got that hardened by having it easy. He felt vaguely guilty for having judged Martin by his own assumptions again.

Jack could see that Danny wouldn't relent until he had some answers. Answers that weren't his give, even if he did have the whole story. Jack gave a small sigh.

"It seems that Martin's past was a bit more troubled than any of us suspected." Jack folded his hands on a slim file with information he had managed to collect. Once he knew where to look, and Larabee's arrival had been a huge help there, some conscientious searching and a few owed favours and he'd managed to piece together enough to have at least a basic understanding of the situation.

"And the ATF agent? Is he part of it?"

Jack nodded. "But as far as I can tell he's on Martin's side."

"So we can trust him with Martin's safety in whatever's going on?"

Danny seemed reluctant and Jack empathised completely. One of his agents was in trouble and there was nothing he could do to help. In fact, if he tried to interfere at all it would likely make the situation worse.

"We don't have much choice."

Danny decided that now would be a good time to call in some favours owed and find out just what kind of a man this Larabee was and what his connection to Martin was. While their relationship might have been rocky in the beginning, with misunderstandings from both sides, he considered Martin to be a good friend. He took his friendships very seriously and he wasn't about to let anyone hurt Martin.

As Danny closed the door on his way out of the office Jack returned his gaze to the slim folder beneath his hands. He felt worn out the last few days. His job wasn't one that lent itself to restfulness or peace, but recently he felt all of his 46 years.

He was at a complete loss. His agent was in trouble and there was nothing he could do. He hated nothing more than that sense of helplessness. The reason he had become an agent was because he wanted to change things, to actively make a difference. With Victor his hands were tied. Just another reason to dislike the man.

As if his treatment of his son wasn't a good enough reason.

Jack would admit, if only to himself, that he had also laboured under the impression that Martin coasted on his father's influence, but after only one meeting with the passionate young man he could see how mistaken that impression was. Martin was an intense man who pursued everything with a single-minded focus that could only be the result of a childhood spent predominantly alone. There was also something awkward about him that Jack hadn't quite been able to pinpoint until he'd seen Martin with his father. He had never seen a child so desperate to both prove himself and please his father when said father was so oblivious.

Jack sighed, inordinately glad that their cases of recent had been simple and straightforward. He knew his team was feeling the strain of what was happening, even if they didn't know the specifics.

Usually the team worked well together. They just gelled. There was not a member of the team that he could afford to lose, they were all invaluable, but he knew that it was likely that Martin would leave New York, one way or the other. Either Martin would leave on his own or Larabee would actually manage to convince Victor to let Martin return to Denver.

While he hated to lose an agent he knew that Larabee would not stop fighting until he had his man back. Usually he would not give in so easily, not for an agent with as much potential as Martin, but it was clear that Martin's heart lay elsewhere. And there was no way an agent could do the job well if their heart wasn't in it.

Jack picked up the phone. Tom, an old friend from the academy, would be able to lay some groundwork. He may end up losing a good agent, but he could at least make the transition as smooth as possible for Martin. It was doubtful his father would.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Martin returned from lunch feeling more relaxed than he had in days. That's not to say he didn't expect Chris or his father to pop out of the woodwork at any moment, but he had spent his entire lunch hour at one of the most calming places he could find on such short notice: the shooting range. He felt just a little bit more confident about facing the situation now.

He stepped out of the elevator and walked down the passage that had once seemed so daunting. Entering the office he looked around to gage the situation. He knew he would have been beeped or called if anything happened, but it was still a comfort to walk into an office with only the quiet lull that signified there was no case at present. His gaze landed on Danny who was watching him with a strange expression, practically radiating curiosity.

Martin's calmness from lunch evaporated completely and he stood utterly still for a moment. Somehow Danny knew, and if he knew then it wouldn't take long for the others to find. This whole thing was just spiralling out of control.

The thought that they might all know was more frightening than anything else at the moment. Now he had no one to pretend to and pretending had been such a big part of his life for so long that he didn't know how to deal without it.

His first instinct was to run. Sometimes it felt like he'd been running since the day his mother died. He turned and fled the way he had come. He heard Danny leap up from his desk and chase him but his only thought was to get out before he had no where left to go.

He was almost at the elevator when it opened and Sam stepped out, her attention focussed on the papers in her hand. Martin tried to turn to avoid her, but they inevitably collided and tumbled to the ground.

Martin quickly scrambled to his feet, but Danny had caught up and had stepped too close for Martin to make his escape without being caught.

"Danny," he warned. If there was one thing he hated it was being penned in.

"Promise you won't run."

Martin felt his lip curling into a snarl and he had to remind himself that Martin was composed and self-contained. Danny continued to stare at him earnestly.

"Fine, I promise," he conceded sullenly. He still thrummed with nervous energy, and Danny clearly noticed as he refused to move out of his personal space.

Sam watched the exchange cautiously, completely in the dark. She knew that something was wrong with Martin, but he had refused to divulge whatever it was and she respected that. He had understood when she needed her space. She could only do the same for him.

"Martin?" she questioned softly. Martin shook his head. Too many people knew already. He wasn't going to involve the world in his personal life, even if they happened to be friends. Especially if they happened to be friends. Not when his father was involved. Sam turned immediately to look at Danny who also shook his head.

"It's not for me to say."

Sam rested a hand on his arm, ignoring the stiff stance that indicated he would rather be anywhere but there.

"We care about you. If you're in trouble we just want to help. You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Martin dredged up a smile. Sam of all of them had been there when he needed her. She had been the one to comfort him when Bonnie died.

"I appreciate it, you know I do, but there are enough problems without involving more people." Sam nodded and gave his arm a light squeeze.

"I'm here if you need me."

"Thank you." Martin knew that she was sincere. Even if she had her own problems, she would do her best to help. Out of all of this he could use someone without an agenda. Even Chris had his own agenda.

"Harvard," Danny said, this time questioning.

Martin sighed.

"I don't suppose there's any way to get out of this." Martin couldn't quite wish that they'd get a case to distract his dedicated friend. Danny herded Martin into a room and closed the door behind him, leaning against it.

"I know there's something going on. I haven't been able to find out much, but I know enough to know that you're in some kind of trouble and that no one is doing anything."

"Between Jack and Chris, I'm sure things will work out. For better or worse, I don't know."

"Chris?"

"Never mind."

Danny's eyes widened. "Special Agent Christopher Larabee. So you know him quite well?"

Martin frowned, not sure how to address that without telling the rest of the story. He needn't have worried. He could almost see the wheels turning in Danny's head.

Danny, for his part, was putting together bits of information out of what he had been able to piece together. He knew that Chris led a team and he knew that one of the agents had left it four years ago. There were no ties between Martin and Larabee that he could discover. Martin had joined white collar four years ago, barely a week after Tanner had left Larabee's team. Martin's second name was Vincent.

"Vin Tanner," he breathed, shock written plainly on his face. "You're Vin Tanner, and you used to be on his team."

"Danny, you have to keep this to yourself. You can't tell the others on the team," Martin told him urgently.

Danny cracked a smile at Martin's dramatics. "Or my life depends on it."

Martin gave a frustrated sigh. "This is serious. It may not be your life but it'll certainly be your job, and anyone else's who interferes." He gave a wry smile. "My father takes no prisoners."

"Is that why you ran away?"

Martin couldn't suppress his shock quickly enough.

"I'll admit I didn't see it at first, but your outburst the other day gave it away."

Martin shut his eyes wearily.

"It's amazing how quickly my life falls apart."

"Martin," Danny said, all levity gone. "You know that if anything goes wrong we'll back you up. No questions asked." Martin nodded.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Chris stormed into the hotel room, hotel staff trailing uselessly after him. Victor Fitzgerald looked up, ready to berate whoever had entered his room uninvited. Upon seeing Chris he changed his mind.

"Mr Larabee, what a pleasant surprise. I've been meaning to speak with you for quite some time."

"I've got a bone to pick with you too."

"Please, have a seat." Chris remained standing.

"You're going to destroy your son," Chris said plainly. Victor raised an eyebrow.

"If anyone's going to do that it's you and your team."

"We're the best thing that's ever happened to him, and you would know that if actually took a look at him every now and then."

"Do not presume to tell me what's best for my son."

"If you cared about him at all then you would let him make his own decisions about this."

"I'm only doing what's best for him. He doesn't think clearly when it comes to this other life he's created."

Chris only just resisted the urge to punch him. If anything, Martin only thought clearly when he was Vin, when he wasn't under his father's thumb. He couldn't believe how blind Victor Fitzgerald had to be not to see how much his son suffered just to make him happy.

"You're only doing what's best for yourself," Chris told him, his tone dripping with disgust. "He's just a commodity to you. Someone you can exploit. You don't deserve a son like Vin." The two men glared at each other. Victor narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"I don't need you to tell me how to care for my son. I certainly don't need you to confuse Martin. Perhaps it's time that you returned to Denver."

"Not without Vin," Chris stated firmly. Victor knew a challenge when he saw one.

"His name is Martin."

Chris folded his arms stubbornly. "Did you ever stop to wonder why he ran away?"

"Typical teenage rebellion."

Chris snorted at the man's absolute inability to acknowledge any problem that existed when it came to his relationship with Martin.

"Teenage rebellion is smoking, or staying out too late. It is _not_ becoming another person to escape your problems."

"Martin had no cause to run away, there weren't any problems," Victor told him obstinately.

"Are you blind or just stupid?" Chris growled, his temper getting the better of him. "Anyone with eyes can see that he's suffering. He's so caught up trying to please you that he doesn't care about his own happiness."

"He's happy where he is. He's certainly happier than he was playing that Vin Tanner character. God only knows what possessed him to come up with that."

"He does a passable impression of happiness, but when was the last time you heard him laugh or saw him smile honestly?" Chris shook his head. "You can't even see him when he's right in front of you. Do you really think you know him well enough to know what might be best for him?"

"I know Martin."

"Really?"

"I think you should leave, Agent Larabee, while you still have a job to return to."

Chris ignored his threat as he continued to stare at Victor piercingly.

"Do you know that he likes his coffee strong enough to fry your taste buds? Or that he absolutely detests wearing a tie?"

"Agent Larabee," Victor warned.

"Do you know how much he hates hospitals? Do you know what his hopes for the future are?"

"You've outstayed your welcome Agent Larabee," Victor said as he picked up the phone to call security. Chris continued to ignore the threat.

"Do you know what demons keep him up at night? Do you know that he's willing to sacrifice everything to help people, even people he doesn't know?" Victor frowned as he absently placed the phone back in its cradle. "You think you know him, but you don't know him at all. You only know what you've made him."

"I only want what's best for him. I just want him to be happy," Victor admitted.

"Did you ever think to ask him?" Victor stared at Chris, looking at a complete loss.

"He has so much potential. I just want him to live up to it."

"Vin wants nothing more than to be an agent, and it's clear he idolises you, but he wants to do it on his own terms. He wants to make his own mark."

"What am I supposed to do?" Victor asked.

"Let Vin decide for himself, even if you don't like his decisions. All he's ever wanted is your acceptance."

"I'll take you…suggestions into consideration," Victor conceded.

"I suppose that'll have to do."

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Martin looked up as a shadow fell across his desk.

"Dad," he said surprised. He glanced quickly around to make sure Jack wasn't in sight. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you that I was returning to Washington."

"Oh."

"I believe that your friends will be returning to Denver soon as well." Martin looked down at his desk.

"Will they still have jobs to return to?"

"Martin," Victor began. He paused a moment. "Perhaps we should continue this somewhere more private." Martin nodded as he stood, only then noticing that Danny and Sam were trying to watch them discretely. Martin led him to an empty room and shut the door behind him.

"Well?" he prompted.

"I… I'm sorry," Victor said. "For threatening them. And for making you feel trapped." Martin blinked a few times, unsure he had heard right.

"Dad," he began hesitantly.

"Martin, I know I haven't been the best father, but I've always tried my best." Victor shook his head sadly. "You were always so intelligent and eager and with your mother gone I didn't know how to relate to you. I pushed you to do well because your accomplishments were the only way I knew to breach that gap."

Martin was silent, not entirely sure where this had come from or what it meant exactly. He was reluctant to divulge anything in case this turned out to be fleeting. While his father had never tried something along this tack before he wouldn't put it past him.

"Agent Larabee was right, it's about time I let you make your own decisions. Even if that means that you go back to Denver."

"You're just going to let me go?" Martin asked hesitantly, unsure where this change of heart had come from. He would deal with Chris later.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Martin. I don't like the thought of you in Denver. I would much prefer that you remain in New York, even if it is with Jack Malone." He took a deep breath. "But it's not my decision, it's yours. If Denver is what makes you happy, then I will try to accept that."

"I'll speak to Jack then, about my two weeks notice." Martin watched Victor's expression closely as he said this, trying to gage his reaction. All he caught was a slight grimace that was gone quickly. Victor nodded at his decision and straightened, withdrawing from the emotional conversation.

"Shall I still expect you for Easter?" he asked, returning to formalities. Martin nodded. "I'll tell your mother… I'll tell Juliet that you're doing well."

Martin nodded again, afraid that if he spoke it would somehow shatter the fragile balance that had been reached. Victor turned and swept from the room and Martin exhaled slowly. Speaking with his father always left him with an uneasy feeling that came from knowing the man was at least two steps ahead of him at all times. Maybe it would be different this time. Things were a long way from fine, but Martin now had the hope that one day they could be.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Martin knocked on Jack's door. When he entered there was a spring in his step that had been missing for quite a while. He handed over his resignation without speaking and waited for Jack to look it over. Jack needed only a glance to recognise it for what it was.

"I take it your father changed his mind." Martin's smile was answer enough. "Alright, I'll make sure everything goes through as quickly as possible."

"I wasn't expecting you to give in so easily."

"I will admit to looking into your past when the new information came to light, if only to know what to expect and how best to handle the situation." There was a pause as Jack tried to find the right way to express himself. "I hate to lose a good agent, but Denver is the only place you didn't try to escape."

"I haven't run from New York, either."

"I'm sure it was only a matter of time. You've been restless these past few months."

Martin couldn't deny what was clearly true. His feeling of being trapped in his father's web of schemes had increased steadily until finally his frustration had crept into his work.

"Thank you," he said, "for being so understanding."

"I've little use for an agent who wants to be somewhere else." He smiled to soften the blow of his words.

"Jack, I wouldn't have let it interfere –"

"You would have tried, but you wouldn't have been happy, and it would have shown eventually." They were silent for a moment, sitting opposite each other.

"It's been an honour having you on my team," Jack told him finally.

There was no way for Martin to say how he truly felt about the man, how even as he saw the Seven as his brothers he saw Jack as a father figure of sorts. He may be unorthodox but he was the sort of man Martin felt he could aspire to be.

"It's been an honour working with you too." They shook hands before Martin took a step back. "I should go tell the others."

Jack smiled. "Good luck."

Martin snorted. Somehow he doubted that they would be as understanding as Jack. With a quick nod to the other man he turned and left the office, steeling himself for the coming confrontation.

Once he was out of the office he called to the others who gathered quickly around him. They had known something was going on for days now, and this was their chance to learn what it was.

"I just want you all to know that I will always appreciate the time I spent here. I learned a lot from all of you about more things than just this job." Martin could see that Danny at least understood what was going on, even if he didn't seem to like it. On the other hand, Sam looked troubled and Vivian concerned.

"Martin," Sam began, "you sound like you're leaving."

"I am."

"Why?"

"I'm going home."

"To DC?" Sam asked, frowning in confusion. She knew how turbulent his relationship with his father was, and couldn't understand why he would voluntarily go back there. "I'm sure we can work something out, Martin. You don't have to go."

"I'm not going to DC," he assured her, with a slight smile. "I'm going to Denver."

"But why? You can't just leave us."

Martin could tell from his expression that Danny clearly agreed with Sam. To Martin it felt like things were finally going right, but to Danny he was abandoning his friends.

"Sam, you know I count you all as my friends, and this doesn't change that, but in Denver I have my family, one that I've chosen. Not going back when I have the chance is not something I can do."

Sam sighed. She understood, if nothing else, how much family meant to him and she wouldn't be the one to keep him from it. Not that she would actually succeed. It was clear that he was set on going regardless of what they thought, but leaving with things unfinished was the last thing any of them wanted.

"I suppose the only thing to say is good luck." Martin flashed her one of his rare winning smiles and pulled her into a brief embrace. "Don't forget us," she whispered. He nodded and released her.

"Vivian," he said, turning to the older woman. He was about to continue, but she cut him off.

"This is what you want?"

"Yes." The depth of feeling in that one word was enough to convince her. She surprised him by hugging him as well.

"You had better look after yourself. We won't be there to chase you down if you get into any trouble." He grinned.

"Don't worry, I'll have six others who'll be getting into trouble right along with me." Vivian shook her head, but smiled fondly, none-the-less.

"Danny," he started, not sure how to address the other man. He was interrupted by Chris and the others storming into the office. Upon spotting them they all walked over, surreptitiously surrounding him.

"Chris," he said in exasperation.

"We're not giving you a chance to get out of this."

Martin carefully hid his smile and frowned instead. Chris deserved a little payback for going behind his back.

"Out of what?"

"You're coming back to Denver with us, consequences be damned."

"But my father –" The corner of his mouth twitched.

"We'll deal with that if we have to." Chris could only hope that his talk with Victor had done some good at least.

"You are aware of how persistent Mr Larabee can be," Ezra said.

"Besides, the office has been dull. No one can stand up to Chris like you can," Buck added.

"I don't know," Martin said uncertainly. Jack, who had left his office to see what the commotion was about, snorted.

"I've already accepted his resignation," he told the men. Chris's frustrated look immediately turned into a glare.

"And when were you planning to tell us?"

Vin grinned. "When you stopped being an ass." There were several muffled snorts and chuckles. Chris looked like he was trying to remain angry, but the grin breaking out on his face ruined his glare.

"I suppose it's too late to change my mind," he muttered.

"The FBI doesn't accept refunds, Cowboy."

"Martin," Danny called, to get his attention. Martin turned, looking at him expectantly. "It won't be the same without you here." Martin shook his hand with a warm smile.

"Keep everyone light-hearted." Danny nodded. He was the last man to keep Martin from family, especially one that so obviously cared about him.

"So what are we supposed to call you now?" JD asked Martin. Buck shrugged.

"Figure 'Junior' still fits."

"Not so sure about 'Cowboy' though," Chris added, his expression amused.

Danny snorted at that. His information on Vin Tanner had been scant. After all, he hadn't known that that was exactly what he was looking for, but he knew enough to know that the man suited that moniker completely.

"I believe that 'Yuppie' may be an acceptable alternative considering the circumstance," Ezra volunteered. Martin glared at him.

"Vin's fine."

A sudden thought seemed to strike Ezra.

"Are you returning to your former abode?" Martin shook his head with a look of frustration.

"I highly doubt that my father's leniency extends that far. Besides, I doubt that it's still available." There were several sighs of relief. "There's nothing wrong with that neighbourhood," Martin objected.

"It's not called Purgatorio for nothing," Buck said.

"Purgatorio?" Sam asked, her expression worried. Martin shuffled his feet. He knew how people tended to react when he said that he lived there.

"It's not so bad as all that," he insisted.

"Hey, there's an apartment that's just opened up in our block," JD exclaimed. Martin hesitated, not sure of a polite way to tell JD and Buck that he would rather not live in the same block as them.

"I think I might want to look around a bit," he ventured. Neither man seemed to be offended as they continued to chat. Martin had almost forgotten how enthusiastic about everything both men were. Awhile later Chris came to stand next to him and they were comfortably silent for a long moment.

"I know you spoke to my father," Martin said eventually. Chris remained silent, waiting to see what his reaction would be. "I can't say I'm ungrateful, not this time with the way things worked out, but if you ever go behind my back like that again…" he trailed off, aware that any threat he made against his brother was empty, but not willing to concede this issue without a fight at least.

"I know, Vin," Chris said and Martin realised that he did. They lapsed into silence again.

"There's an extra room at the ranch," Chris stated. Martin nodded. There always was one, more than one in fact, for any of them that needed it.

"I'll need somewhere to stay while I look for an apartment." This time Chris nodded, knowing it was as much as the other man was likely to concede.

"We've got tickets back to Denver in the morning. Travis can't spare us any longer."

"I'll be there as soon as I can get away."

"We've missed you," Chris admitted finally.

"I missed you all too," Vin replied, and it seemed like such an understatement to the sense of loss that the last four years had encompassed.

_M7WATM7WATM7_

Two weeks later Chris was in the barn currying Pony when he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye. He turned to see Vin standing in the entrance of the barn with a smirk on his face. Chris couldn't help but smile back.

It seemed to him that the other man had finally reached a balance in his life, which showed itself somewhere between the designer jeans and sunglasses and battered leather jacket and scuffed boots.

With a small jerk of his head he indicated that the other man could join him. Vin dropped his bag without a verbal reply and made his way over to Peso's stall. Peso gave a disgruntled snort and snapped his teeth at Vin who simply chuckled and pulled a sugar cube from his pocket. Peso edged closer with a wary look, before he eagerly consumed the treat.

Chris tossed Vin a brush which he deftly caught. He took a deep breath in and released it slowly. Finally he felt completely at ease. This was where he belonged.

_Fin_

_Tell me what you like, what you don't, what you think I can improve, or what you think I have right._


End file.
